civilians were running madly here and there endeavoring to get out of
the fire zone.

I reached Ouderham, which was at that time out of the range of the fire;
estaminets were getting ready to close for the night, the hour of ten
having struck. The ammunition drivers were lying around taking things
easy and not expecting an ammunition call, but the moment I hove in
sight they raced out to the wagon line. Many and eager were the
inquiries fired at me as to what was happening up the line. They knew
the parson had gone up and they were burning to know what was doing. I
told them as well as I could.

"Stand to!" from the Q.M. and they came running from their tents, not
waiting to take even a blanket, throwing in their equipment as fast as
they could, trotting their horses over to the ammunition trucks and
hitching them up.

"Stand to your horses! Prepare to mount! Mount!" came the three distinct
orders roared out by the Quartermaster, with scarcely a second's time
between each and its fulfillment. With a gunner in each wagon we
started in less than eight minutes from the time the order was given,
trotting as hard as horses could trot over the cobblestones.

It was not long before we came in contact with the fire, but luck was
with us and we escaped until we got to the ammunition dump, where we
loaded up with ammunition as fast as men ever worked; it was a joy
forever to see those boys work. We had to load up in chain fashion, as
it was impossible for the wagons to get to a dump more than four at a
time, and the loading was done by the men passing the shells from hand
to hand until each wagon was loaded. Then not a second was lost in